Medusa
by Serethial-san
Summary: A retelling of the story of Medusa from her transformation to her death. Warnings inside.


Note: Something a little bit different, coming from me. So, for an assignment, I had to write a retelling of a story from a well-known character's perspective. However, if the person was a good guy, I had to write their story as though they were really bad and vice versa. I chose Medusa…and this is what I wrote. Hope you like it! (Also, I couldn't think up a better title…sorry)

**Warnings**: Non-explicit rape, bit of violence, character death

_**Disclaimer: …Well, I don't think anyone actually owns the characters of Greek Mythology, but better safe than sorry. I don't own them.**_

Medusa

She never really considered herself beautiful. Even as she stared at her reflection in the pond outside her home, Medusa didn't see what her mother kept bragging about. She wasn't ugly, that could be plainly seen, but she wasn't the most stunning woman ever created. Her blond hair was softer than most and her skin was a soft peach color that was smooth to the touch. Many a man had asked for her hand, but she turned them down one by one, knowing that it was her beauty she was to be married for and nothing more.

Her mother would sometimes, in hushed tones, praise her by saying that she rivaled the beauty of the nymphs and even Aphrodite herself. In response, Medusa would blush, say nothing, but would then go to the temple of Aphrodite and pray that the goddess would restrain her wrath for the day. Every night, she would return and pray again, thanking the goddess for not striking down her mother. Many people had seen Medusa enter the temple alone and believed that she was praying the Aphrodite to enhance her beauty. They were nothing but rumors, but many of the common folk ended up believing them.

Today, though, Medusa was visiting another goddess; Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. Medusa's mother had bid her to take the offerings to the temple and thank the goddess for blessing them. The best of her father's crops were divided among sacrifices for Athena and Demeter and while her mother prayed to Demeter for the harvest, Medusa prayed to Athena.

Medusa bowed deeply to the idol of Athena, laying down her family's sacrifice for the month; the finest wheat her father had harvested, the first batch of milk the family goat had made, the first figs harvested. The gifts were simple, yet Medusa knew that they pleased the goddess. Making sure that the gifts were arranged perfectly at the foot of the statue, she called out to one of the priestesses to let her know that her family made a sacrifice.

"May Athena's blessings come to you," the priestess replied.

Medusa bowed again and prostrated herself before the idol, praying for Athena's blessing on her family in the days ahead.

"Why dost thou bow?" a deep voice said from behind her, "Thou art matched with the beauty of this goddess."

Medusa got up from her position and turned to face the one who spoke.

The man standing behind her was attractive, to say the least. He was tall and broad shouldered, a small beard adorning his angular face. His deep blue eyes were looking her over as though she was something to be devoured.

"I would not be so vain as to compare myself to the gods," she replied.

"But what if I was a god?" the man asked, stepping closer to her, "What if I truly believed that thou hast a beauty to rival that of Athena herself?"

Medusa shuffled back. "I would think that you were foolish and should not speak of such things in a goddess's temple."

"Then let me discuss it another way with thy beautiful form." The man moved forward and pulled himself onto Medusa's body. Her eyes widened and she began to scream as the world faded around her, leaving just herself and the man.

Medusa's knew nothing but water. Deep blue filled her vision as waves lapped at her exposed flesh. She writhed as the waves rocked her and screamed again, not caring if the water surrounding her filled her lungs and drowned her. That would be a just punishment for what she was doing.

As suddenly as it happened, it was done. Medusa opened her eyes, the man nowhere in sight.

"Thy punishment is decided," a loud voice echoed through the temple, "Thy once beloved beauty is gone. All who look upon thee now shall be so disgusted that they shall turn to stone."

Then, the voice was gone and Medusa found herself alone next to the idol, bruised and afraid.

"Lady Medusa, are you alright?" the soft voice of a priestess called out, "The goddess has inflicted her wrath upon someone in the temple and I-"

Medusa raised her head and the priestess stopped speaking. The other woman's mouth opened into a large 'O' and she stepped backwards, her eyes wide in fear. Medusa scowled and a soft hissing noise filled her ears.

The priestess stopped her backwards retreat, her feet seemingly rooted to the ground. There was a soft clicking as the silk slippers she wore seemed to harden and turn a soft shade of grey. Then, her ankles began the strange transformation, then her calves and her thighs. Medusa saw the girl struggle, but she noticed how the priestess's eyes remained on her at all times. The priestess's whole body turned grey and Medusa watched as one of the priestess's veins pulsed slowly through its alabaster prison. She watched with her own horror as it slowed to a stop, the priestess now a sister to the idol standing next to her.

Medusa wanted to cry, wanted to scream, but she couldn't bring herself to. The power she had felt ending the priestess's life was…intoxicating. She absentmindedly licked her lips, a small part of her mind wondering if this was to be part of her punishment.

The man looked no different from the others; same weapons, same arrogant nature about him, the same intent to kill her. Medusa had killed hundreds of men with a single glance; this newcomer was nothing but another nameless body to be added to the list of deceased. No one who met her gaze ever breathed again.

Medusa couldn't help the feral grin that graced her lips. That's why she had been placed on this cursed spit of rock with her 'sisters', the Gorgans. Her gaze had ended many a life on the mainland and, Posiden, the god whose actions had caused this curse to come upon her, had ferried her away to the Island of the Gorgans so that she would not harm another mortal.

Yet, every man that set foot on the island was added to her collection of statues. She had hundreds hoarded in her own little corner of the island. Every day, she would gaze at the statues, caressing their faces and kissing their frozen lips, wondering if this would be as close as she would ever get to truly kissing a man. Posiden's rape was still etched into her body as though her own had been made of stone that day, but she wanted a true love instead of a god's affection. Even the pleasure of turning men into stone was beginning to bore her.

The man that was approaching her now was still no different than all the others. He was young; too young to be out hunting dangerous things like her. His eyes were bright with youth, but Medusa could see age beginning to find its way into his strong face. Unlike the other men, she noted, he moved slowly, holding up a golden shield instead of a sword. He was moving the shield around him, scrutinizing it with determination.

"You're a smart one," she said aloud, making the young man stop in his tracks, "Using a mirror to figure out my location. I must say that I am impressed."

The man closed his eyes as she finished speaking, raising the shield so that it was angled away from his body.

Medusa licked her lips. Yes, this was turning out to be very interesting.

"What are you called, boy?" she asked, moving closer to him. She relished the feeling of power as the man's body tensed.

"Perseus," he replied. Medusa reached out and caressed his cheek, loving the feel of warm flesh against her fingers. She could feel Perseus's pulse increase as her finger lingered.

"And why have you come?" she whispered, "It must have something to do with me. Everyone who steps foot on this island wants to kill me for one reason or another."

Perseus bit his lip, almost debating whether or not he should reveal his quest to the thing that could end his life as soon as he let his guard down. He let his lip go, resolve urging him on. "I have come for the head of the ugly Medusa to kill the man who is going to marry my mother."

Medusa snatched her hand away. "'Ugly?'", she repeated, "There is nothing ugly about me. Years ago, I was adored by many, most of them saying that my beauty rivaled the gods. Athena's curse couldn't have affect that much…" Looking back on the years she spent before she was sentenced to life on the island, she had never thought of looking in a reflective surface. She stayed as far away from water as she could, ever afraid that Posiden would come for her again.

Perseus hesitated. "You don't know?" he asked, his eyes still screwed shut. His arm moved slowly, bringing the shield he held closer to her. Its surface glinted in the dim light and Medusa came face to face with her reflection.

Medusa stared at herself in horror as she gazed at her reflection. The form of her body hadn't changed much, but she noticed several changes to the contents of her once desired body. Her smooth skin was cracked and looked almost scaly in some places. Her now snake-like eyes widened as she stared at her face, old age and the spell taking its toll in the form of craggy wrinkles and sagging flesh. Medusa almost cried out in shock when she saw that her beautiful golden hair was now a pile of snakes attached to her scalp. They hissed in distress as she reached for them, wanting to tear them out of her and throw them in the dust. They coiled themselves gently around her wrists, their hisses turned soothing as they rubbed their ugly heads against her skin, trying to soothe her.

"I never realized…" she murmured, the horror gone from her face, but her serpent eyes still gazed at her reflection. "I guess I am no longer beautiful now."

And then she heard the sound of steel slicing through flesh and she saw the sky for a moment before everything went black.

End


End file.
